Curse, Bloodmadness, and Honor
by millenium-writer
Summary: Welcome to a tale of life, death and undeath. A tale of life snuffed out cruelly, of life alit anew. A tale of mistakes, and honor. Of corruption and family. Welcome to a world you can't understand, and will never know. Welcome to the world of Underworld.


Welcome, dear reader.

Welcome to a tale of life, and death, and undeath. A tale of a life snuffed out cruelly. A tale of a life alit anew. A tale of mistakes, and honor. Of corruption and family.

Welcome to a world you can't understand, and will never know.

Welcome to the world...

Of Underworld.

-

My name is Elizebeth Tanley, and I am dead.

Undead rather.

My unlife began two months after I had turned twenty three, on a night much like tonight. My best friend had stolen my boyfriend, and had tried to keep it secret from me. They both had, actually. I spent a week stewing in my misery, watching them pretend to care while they lied through their teeth.

That night, I had decided on simple revenge. I drove my former best friend, Katey, out to a bar, got her half drunk off her ass, just enough to have the sense to be scared when I left her alone, in the middle of nowhere, on an empty stretch of god forsaken road at two in the morning.

I would have too, if my car hadn't stalled after I let her out to pee at the roadside like a dog. When the car wouldn't start, I began regretting having burned most of Steve's things, flushed his cell phone, and dumped a bottle of cola into his computer. What can I say? I was upset.

Hours later, we had stumbled onto a payphone out by some deserted farmland, still half drunk and too tired to care how shitty we looked. The payphone was broken, natch. At this point, I was tired, hungry, and pissed off beyond belief, so I just let Katey have it. I guess my screaming attracted some attention, because the next thing I knew, after having broken two of my fingers on that smug bitches face, was some maniac dropping down on Katey, and ripping her throat out with his teeth.

Which was odd, because there were no trees around. I notice odd things when I'm drunk, sue me. I couldn't even breathe, I was too scared to even crap my pants, if you can believe it. The freak took enough time to drool blood all over himself while watching me, licking his fingers clean before sinking his fangs into my throat.

So there I was, bleeding out like a pig, and some black blur rips the monster off of me, tearing out a chunk of my neck too. I didn't pass out, I guess I realized that I was gonna die, momma always said I was a stubborn little cuss.

So there's this guy, holding my homicidal maniac by the throat, and he's flailing and screaming and spitting blood and curses like there's no tomorrow. The maniac I mean, not the guy. For him there wasn't, I guess, from the amount of noise he was making. I'll never forget what the guy said either, seeing as how I thought they'd be the last words I'd ever hear.

He said; "Mine vengeance was slow in coming, Azrael, but as promised, it shall be too swift for your wretched soul. Burn in hellfire, foul spawn of my kin. _Die_." And then he squeezed.

I mean he _squeezed_. He just pulled those long slim fingers of his shut, and there was this gurgling crunch, and a spurting noise, and all of a sudden, this guy has no head, hell, not even much of a neck left.

He dropped the body, I guess, because the last thing I remember, is him standing over me. I don't remember if I blinked or not, but there he was, this dark sort of shadow, with these really intense eyes, just _staring_ at me.

And then I passed out, I guess.

I woke up in a dark room, on this really plush couch, wrapped up in a sheet like I was in a bad thirties movie. The first thing I heard was his voice. Did I mention he had this really sexy voice too? "I take, and I give. A life for a life. His for yours. So do I keep the balance as best I can."

Yeah, I didn't get it either. "Huh?" Yeah, real intelligent, just go _duuuhhh_ why don't I?

He laughs, this low, kind of melodic chuckle, and he just drifts into, well, it was more like he drifted out of the shadow, and into the real world. "I'm sorry, but I was too late in coming to save your friend." Oh yeah, _really_ sexy voice, had that old world kind of speaking way too.

"Don't be." I said, I didn't really think before opening my mouth, which would've saved my life, I guess, that night I mean. "She was a bitch and had it coming."

"I'll take your word for it, then." He just glided over to a chair, a really nice one that looked like it had been sat in forever, but well kept, kind of a burgundy wine shade. "Your old life is over, and a new one begins." Cryptic or what? "Take this moment to mourn it's passing, if you wish, you'll naught have another chance to do so." _Sexy_.

"My old life sucked donkey balls. Screw it." Momma also said I had a mouth like a bowl of dirt. Guess she was right about that one too.

He did that chuckling again, like dark music, all tempting and tight leather pants. Too bad he didn't actually wear them. Well, he wore pants, just not tight leather ones. Too bad, he had such a nice butt. "As you say. You are now a child of the night, a Vampyre." That's how he said it, capital V and all. He was really good with the wordy speak too. "Sunlight and holy symbols are your bane now, the darkness, once a part of the world, flows in your veins."

Right. That. I guess I looked pretty confused, because just as I was going to open my mouth, he put a finger on my lips. If you've ever tasted, what does sex taste like? Well, he must wash his hands with the stuff, if they made liquid sex as a pump soap, he must wash often. "Shhh, you need rest. You lack blood, and have just turned. Sleep, and then, you will learn."

I was tired, in every sense of the word. Plus, I had no idea what he was talking about, but sleep sounded good, so I did.

Sleep, I mean.

It took about a week for everything to sink in properly. The vampire stuff I mean. The blood drinking, the burning in sunlight, the crosses hurting _really_ bad to touch, I got that quickly. What took a long time was how to be, well, _charming_. How to walk, how to breathe, how to speak. It was haaaarrrd. But I had a good teacher, a great one really.

And I learned stuff too. I learned that I was a youngling among many vampires, and my connection was through the blood that gave me unlife. My sire was one Troy Damerov, somewhere between three hundred and thirty, to three thirty five, give or take. He was a Death Dealer, a hunter caste, and learned his trade from someone named Selene. I did learn that she wore latex, always carried at _least_ four guns on her person at all times, and could kill anyone, _anyone_, that crossed her path, be they human, Vampire, or Lycan.

A Lycans like the Wolfman, I guess. Troy didn't teach me much about them, except that they were our mortal foes, and that there were very little to none left alive. Ok, whatever. On to the important stuff. Troy taught me how to walk, and dance, and be a good, courtly princess. I loved it. I figured I was due, after what that bitch did to me, taking what's-his-name and all. My jackoff boyfriend. I hope he's dead.

I learned about belonging to a coven, and that soon we'd have some lady leader come to join her coven house thingy with ours, some big whoopie doo event. Amelia, that was her name. I want a coven of my own too, but when I bring it up, Troy just does his sexy, 'you're dense, but it's sort of cute so it's ok' laugh and teaches me something new to keep my mind off of it.

So, a little information. Every hundred years, one of three leaders hands over the big chair to the next one, and goes into a big sleepy sleep. We're going to be going to Europe to join the coven in some kickass party in a mansion. I also learn that being the youngest is backwards of the real world, the older you are, the more people give a damn about you. That's why I spend six months learning how to be all vampire lady like. But I get to wear a floor length black gown. It's so nice, it hikes up my boobs, and has nothing from the chest up, and I get these cleaning lady sort of arm length gloves.

Troy tells me it's in the style with his children, and with all the training and lessons, I'll be getting a jumpstart in, so I'll fit in with the girls who're thirty years older than me. Eek, right? Fifty? All old and batty? Then he shows me pictures, not photo pictures, since we can't cast a reflection or have a picture taken, but drawings. Charcoal sketches and stuff. God, they look so beautiful, I'm starting to rethink my opinion on the gown and gloves.

So then we lave, first by plane, to Europe, then by train, since Troy believes in the more 'romantic' travel by rails. I'm stuck in an eight by four room with a guy who looks as sexy as a GQ model, and dresses like one to boot. Hell yes romantic.

Oh. I didn't even mention what he's like, did I? He calls himself 'plain' and 'forgettable looking' but he's totally off, way off. He's got long hair, dark brown, really dark, nearly black, and he wars it in a ponytail that reaches down to the middle of his back. But it's cut weird, so he still has these long bangs that pull loose, and hang down over his eyes and face, like he planned it that way. He doesn't. Plan it that way, I mean. I catch him reading in his library sometimes, and he mutters about cutting it off, and tucks a lock behind his ear. He reads a lot, and he's got this kinda brooding, but in a sexy, not whiny angsty at all sort of look.

So, in we go, to this kickass big ass mansion, and stop conversation dead. We get introduced to the room and everything. They introduce me first, you know, all; "Lady Elizebeth Tanley, and her Sire, Troy Damerov, Death Dealer, former." Like it's on his business cards or something. He gets all mobbed by this pack of women, and I'm all ready to fight them off my man, when they start calling him 'Sire' and 'daddy dearest' and even 'poppa'. Can you believe that? Him, being called 'poppa' of all things?

So then, he turns and introduces me, and they just all, I don't know, flock, around me. They start touching me, my hair, my gloves, my dress. Then they start hauling me away, berating 'poppa' for his inability to teach a girl the wonders of combing her hair, and jewelery. He makes some snappy remarks about his daughters being all pearls, and the clothes being precious settings. They titter, the simps, and pull me away to freshen up.

Ok, I shouldn't be so mean. They do treat me like family, fix up my hair, lend me a few shiny trinkets to wear until daddy can let us loose on a shopping spree to buy my own baubles. And they tell me all the gossip. Stuff like how this Kraven guy runs the show around here for now, and how he's got the horn-on for a Death Dealer lady. I guess it's Selene, and they clap, and giggle and pet me, like I'm some little girl who made a clever quip. They say how lucky I am to have my first event be a joining of the covens, something that happens once a century.

We pop out in time to see daddy dearest making doe eyes at that Selene lady whatever. I get steamed, and the girls coo, saying how sweet it is that he's still loyal to his old boss. Well, they don't call her that, something about a mentor and all, oh well, I wasn't really listening. I wasn't listening, because this scrawny little bitch sidles up to Troy, and starts giving him these looks. You know the kinds of looks. It was the kind Katey gave Josh, my dickhole of a boyfriend.

I was pissed, beyond pissed, I was _livid_. How dare another tramp show up and take my man again? So I figure, the hell with this, I'm a Vampire now, right? I can just take her out, poof! It'll be easy. So we sip blood, and we mingle and chat, like good sisters, while this bitch chats Troy up. I was used to sipping blood by now, kind of a cocktail every two hours thing.

So then, we get over there, _finally_, after covering half the ballroom, and I just give her this _look_. My 'back the fuck off he's _mine_ bitch' look. And she smiles. She just _smiles_! That bitch. Then she walks off, and one of the girls says something, I guess something involving the word smitten, because he was talking.

"Smitten? I don't know... Yes, I suppose so. After all, who do you think turned me?" Turned him? Turned him on? That bitch's days were numbered. I'm killing her tonight, and that's settled.

The rest of the evening went pretty fast, turned out nice too, once I decided to ice the witch. I talked more with the girls, drank more blood, plotted a bit more. Then we went to our rooms, and bedded down. I waited until they were asleep, or doing whatever, then snuck out.

It didn't take me long to track down Troy. Just a batting of the eyelashes at a servant guy, and he showed me right to his room. I wanted a chance to cover for myself, so nobody would suspect me. I'd just tell Troy how nice I thought that lady was, er, whoever she was. I never did quite catch her name. Then I'd sneak into her room, thanks to butler boy, and blame it all on him, easy as pie.

I opened the door, and there she was. There _she_ was. In his room, in Troy's room, laying on the bed like she owned the place. I just lost it at that point. I had snuck my little knife in with me, a gift from Troy. He had taught me that in self defense, a couple of nicks would usually deter any vampire that got too fresh. They were 'hedonistic', whatever that was, but 'not so bold, as to risking their hides' as he put it.

So, I had my knife, and I guess I had walked over to the bedside, because there I was, right in her face, waving the thing at her and demanding to know just who she thought she was. That's when she made the worst mistake in her unlife. She spoke.

"I am Lady Alandra Damerov." She did this whole pompous eye narrowing thing too. "And if you value what little blood you have in your veins, you'll put that away, and leave my chambers this instant." That did it.

Troy was mine, and I was going to keep it that way. So I did what I planed to do all night, I aimed my knife for her neck and shoved it as hard as I could. There was this cracking noise, and what sounded like metal clattering on stone. She still had that 'I'm pissed and oh so much better than you' look on her face, so I looked down.

My arm was bent at an odd angle, just above the wrist, it formed a little L sort of bend, the corner was covered by Alandra's hand, so I couldn't see how bad it was. Then, I heard this sad sort of sigh. I turned to see Troy in the doorway, I guess he had been cleaning up and changing in the bathroom, because he was stripped to the waist, and a bit wet.

"Troy, get this bitch off of me!" I guess I sounded desperate, because he gave me a look. It was a real 'I pity you' look this time.

"Azrael's tainted blood flows through your veins." He started walking over to us, doing that soft gliding step he did so well. "I've failed you, Elizebeth, I am sorry. I had thought that the pureness of my blood would have been enough to save you from the same fate as he. The same blood madness." He curled his slender fingers around one of the carved bed posts, and looked at me with those ivory-blue eyes of his. "It was something I should have known, I can only blame myself, my ego, for cursing you to this."

"I- but I- Troy!" I struggled against Alandra's grip. I didn't feel any pain at all, I just wanted her off of me, and dead. "Just kill this bitch! She thinks she's your wife or something!"

Alandra opened her mouth to say something, but Troy held up a hand, and cut her off. "Elizebeth... She is my wife." I was stunned. Shocked. Speechless. "Didn't you listen to me? Who do you think turned me?" Troy looked at her, the way I had always wanted him to look at me. "She did, three hundred and fifty years ago."

"Three hundred and forty eight dearest." Alandra smiled back at him, and just ignored me. _Ignored me!_ Like I didn't even exist! Then she just shoved me back, like I was a rag doll or something. "The girls will be heartbroken to hear what happened."

Troy nodded, gliding towards me. "I know. They were beginning to grow fond of her. " What? What did he mean 'were'? Bastard! Traitor! That's what he was. I'll kill him, kill them both and bathe in their blood.

"Should I-" Alandra started to get up, and again was stopped by a single gesture from him.

"No. Tis my duty." Stepping forward, he grabbed me by the neck, and lifted me up, so easily. "I am sorry." His fingers began tightening around my neck. I suddenly remembered how Azrael went out.

Laying back on the bed, Alandra began pulling back the covers, making space for him. "Kraven called while you were in the bath. He asked that you go and personally greet Amelia on behalf of the Death Dealers." She began fluffing the pillows. "Selene is busy with some affair involving Lycans or somesuch."

Nodding, Troy gave me the saddest look he had. The saddest look I had ever seen. It was the same kind of look he had when he had torn Azrael's head off. That's when I remembered what he had called the psychopath.

_Foul spawn of my kin._

He had been related to Azrael. Just like he was to me. I was a mess that had to be put down, just like he had been. I would've cried, if I had still been able to, but I felt his grip tighten on my neck, and then everything went black.

-

Well, that's my little slice of life. Or, unlife, rather. I wrote this up because it just popped into my head. Plus, as I was writing it, it just came to it's life on it's own. And I also wanted to maybe create a little interesting background scene, and give a bit more to the ballroom party going on in the first movie.

I would have written more on Selene, but the focus of this story wasn't her at all. So she got a bit part. Ha!

Comments and critiques welcome. I only took a few hours out of my night to do this, er, two, I guess. But hell, I've got a cold, and my nose is running like crazy, so it's not like I had much anything better to do, right?

I hope you enjoyed this little tale. Goodnight, and may your mornings begin with an unpunctured neck.


End file.
